


A Risky Life

by aliveinvividity



Series: Darus Week (2016) [4]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, I actually wrote porn, M/M, Risky Situation, Shower Sex, terriblel awfufl, throw me into a prison cell
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 06:11:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aliveinvividity/pseuds/aliveinvividity
Summary: for darus week day 6remember when i said i wasn't gonna be late for this one??? lmao me tootumblr: that-flawless-boi





	

**Author's Note:**

> for darus week day 6
> 
> remember when i said i wasn't gonna be late for this one??? lmao me too
> 
> tumblr: that-flawless-boi

Daryl's out of breath- striking and lashing out at any flesh that's close to him. Guts and thick, brown blood spatter against his face and clothing. He and Paul are surrounded, walkers closing in on them from all sides. It was supposed to be a simple run. This wasn't supposed to happen. Kal told them that the store was _safe_. He said that-

" _Daryl_!" Paul cries out, kicking one of the undead away from his small frame. "On your right!"

The archer turns and knifes it in the head, its skull caving in under the pressure. The emaciated body hits the stained, concrete floor with a loud **_splat_** , right at his feet. Groans and snarls are all that he hears, the store slowly filling up with the exanimated creatures. Wheezing, lungs filling with harsh breaths, he readies himself to fight more of them. He honestly doesn't know how much longer he can do this. He watches the other man's back- makes sure he'll be okay. If Daryl's not getting out of this, he'll make _damned_ sure that Paul does. 

"There a back door!?" he shouts, decapitating a rotted woman with his machete. 

"Uh," Jesus stammers, out of breath. He kicks a young child walker away, teeth bared, cerulean eyes scanning the market- the parts of the building that's available to their sight. "I don't- I don't know!"

He rasps, "damnit," pushing two back away from him. The both of them are lucky that it's been so long since the start of the turn. If it had been earlier on, when the walkers weren't so weak and decomposed, Daryl and Paul might already be dead. That, or mortally wounded. Bitten.

"Let's try to make it to the front!" The younger man says, dodging a falling corpse. "Can we!?"

Daryl looks and kills three more walkers in the process. There's too many blocking the path to the front exit. They wouldn't be able to make it out that way, and the hunter says just as much. "There's too many of em'!" A brief flash of despair passes through Paul's eyes before disappearing. Daryl is not going to have any of that. There won't be any giving up. He won't let them die. Not today. Not ever. They'll just have to take a chance. A really, really risky chance. "Choose a side of the store!"

The younger man immediately understands. "Let's go left and head towards back! That's usually where the back exit is located!" 

Daryl nods, sprinting off towards said direction, bashing a walker across the jaw to make a clearer pathway. He looks behind himself every few seconds to make sure Paul is okay- that he hasn't fallen or been pulled down with the monsters. It takes them under a minute to see the unlit exit sign, glaring at them from ten feet away. They were going to make it. They were-

" _Shit_!" Daryl hears over the cacophony of noise, a loud crash following. Heart in his throat, he spins around to see that Jesus has fallen. The smaller man is down on his back, kicking out at the herd of walkers that are crowding around him. "Daryl!"

The archer doesn't need to hear anything else. He's already at the other man's side, chopping into rotten skin and bone with his bloodied machete. No way in hell was he going to let them take his lover's life. 

_You already took everythin' else I love. I ain't lettin' you take **this** from me._

As soon as there are enough walkers down to to help them in their getaway, he hauls Paul off the ground, shoving him towards the closed exit doors. "Run!" he clamors. "Stay in front of me!" Their feet slap against the ground with quick steps, Paul obediently remaining in the lead. The smaller man bodily slams against the door from his fast pace, and it flies open. "I'll keep it shut! Get the car!" Daryl commands, putting all of his weight against the door. Jesus nods, running out into the small lot to get into the large, white van they drove. Walkers- at least six of them- are groaning and clawing against the door. Daryl grunts, using all of the power in his legs and arms to push against it. But six is a big number, even if the creatures were basically skeletal. Little by little, it cracks open. Tires screech against pavement, and in the span of five seconds, Paul is there. 

"Get in!"

Steadying himself, the hunter leaps back from the door and makes a break for it, dashing to the passenger side. As soon as he's inside, gasping for air, Paul's foot slams against the gas petal. They peel out, the undead stupidly trying to follow them.

******

 

The ride back is mostly spent in silence, save for the little questions of, " _you okay_?" or, " _everythin' alright_?" Reassurances. That's usually how it went down between the two of them after a bad run; quietness and worry. They return to Hilltop with only what they shoved in their pockets, which is some bandaids, Advil, and tampons. This was a rule: start off with filling your pockets- just incase something goes down.

Stepping out of the car with a heavy, exhausted sigh, Daryl slams the door shut and then goes around to meet Paul, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. He tugs the younger man in close, pressing a chaste kiss against the top of his head. "M' glad you're alright," he rasps, still holding him, heading towards Barrington house to drop off the scarce few necessities they managed to scrounge up.   

"I'm glad you're okay, too," the other man replies, tightening his grip around Daryl's waist. The two of them must make a sight- covered in slimy blood and gunk, giving off such loving and kind vibes. The redneck would find it amusing if he wasn't so tired and anxious. "Let's drop this stuff off then go home to take a shower." Pause. "Then go to bed and cuddle and whatnot." 

The hunter huffs out a breath, breaking away from their embrace to head into the large building. "You go on ahead. I'll get this shit done for you then meet you in a bit."

"My hero," Paul says. "If I weren't so beat, I'd drop down on one knee and confess my love for you all over again."  

Daryl snits, "stop," before going inside with a shake of his head.

******

 The shower's already running by the time he's reached their trailer, and a tiny grin unfolds at the corner of his thin mouth when he hears his boyfriend singing a tune over the sound of beating water,

" _[I know how much I lean on you](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NSfOB8ANdWU), only you can see,_

_Changes that I've been through have left their mark on me,_

_You've been as constant as a northern star, the brightest light that shines_ -"

Daryl manages to shut the ramshackle, peeling door with a soft _click_. He finds enjoyment in surprising his lover. Tiptoeing through their tiny hall-space, he opens the bathroom door. Jesus continues to sing, oblivious to the archer's presence. This door shuts with a barely hearable _click_ , too. 

"- _I just wanna say this is my way,_

_Of telling you everything I could never say before,_

_Yeah, this is my way,_

_Of telling you that every day I'm loving you so much more_ -"

He strips off all of his clothing as quietly as a mouse, setting the dirtied apparel on top of the toilet lid. Then, crouching low, he creeps towards the curtain, nabbing it and pulling it harshly back with a boisterous holler of, " ** _what're you doin_** '!?"

A high-pitched cry escapes Paul's lips as he slips and falls on his ass. Daryl just snorts at him as he shouts, indignantly, covering himself, "Daryl! Really!?" They stare at each other for a bit after that. Jesus' eyes all wide and unamused, Daryl's own eyes squinted and brimming with entertainment. "Help me up, asshole." The taller man does just so, taking his hand and pulling him up. He steps into the cold shower, pulling the curtain back into place. "Now there's water all over the floor. Thanks." 

"We can use my shirt to wipe it up," the redneck shrugs. They're facing each other, Daryl's back to the shower head, taking the brunt of the chilly water. The smaller man's face contorts into one of unspoken disgust at the statement. "What? S' already dirty."

"Still, though," he replies, turning to face away from the taller man. "It's gross." Daryl grabs their small bar of soap, and rinses it under the water, making a bubbly lather between his calloused hands.

"You an' yer OCD," he snorts, rubbing the bar over the slope of one of Paul's shoulders.

The other man sighs, content. "It'll probably only leave dirt behind." Daryl then starts to move the soap down his back, headed towards his ass. Jesus' head falls forward with a shiver, long hair hanging and dripping. The bar trails back up, slowly, and the smaller man presses his hand against the shower wall. "Tease," he hisses, sucking his bottom lip between his teeth. The archer scoffs, setting the soap bar back in its place. Languidly, he directs Paul to face him, and presses his lips against the other's in a modest peck, hands cradling his face. The other man gasps and moans softly, returning the kiss enthusiastically.

A groan tears from Daryl's throat and he crowds up against Jesus, pressing him against the shower wall. It turns dirty _very_ quickly. The shorter man slips him some tongue, and a sharp puff of air shoots from Daryl's nostrils when a finger brushes against his nipple. "Shit," he curses, hiking one of the other's legs up on his waist. Paul nods and dives in for another kiss, biting down on his bottom lip. Their lips move lackadaisically before turning into something more heated. That goes on for a bit before the smaller man's mouth moves away from his and down his neck. 

Daryl groans as Paul sucks kisses into the sensitive skin there. His erection bobs under the shower water, and he grunts when the other man bites and leaves a bruising mark. " _Oh_ ," he whimpers when Jesus moves down and latches onto a nipple. He licks and mouths at it, swirling his tongue around it. The redneck grabs ahold of his hair and tugs, causing Paul to moan, the vibration tickling his nipple.

Suddenly, the shorter man gets down on his knees, and Daryl loosens the grip he has on his long hair. He chokes on saliva when the other man's tongue flicks against the head of his throbbing cock. "Paul- _ah_ -" and then suddenly, his dick is engulfed in the warm heat of his boyfriend's mouth. Not having a gag reflex is something Jesus takes pride in. Daryl himself has a terrible one, and he chokes and gags every single time. Without any commands, he begins to move his mouth over it, swirling his tongue against the underside and head. Warmth drips into the archer's abdomen. They hadn't really done anything in bed for weeks, so he's incredibly sensitive. "Paul, I'm close," he warns in a raspy, thick voice. 

Jesus just shrugs, grabs ahold of his waist with one hand, and bobs his head at a faster pace. Daryl comes with a rumbling moan at the sight of the younger man jacking himself off and whining around him. Paul comes shortly after, shuddering, watching their come intermingle and swirl down the drain.

**

"That was nice," Rovia murmurs, one hand on his chest, petting the hair there. Their legs are twisted together, and the sheets are tangled up between them. Paul's head is lying on his chest, too, and Daryl is gently combing his fingers through his wet hair.

"Yeah," he agrees, quietly. "M' glad yer okay."

Jesus sniffs, shaking his head in agreement. "I'm glad you're okay, too." A moment's pause. "I don't know what I'd do without you. You're like-" another pause. "You're like a part of me, now."

"Sap," the hunter teases, and the smaller man weakly slaps his chest, hitting him square in the nipple.

He says, " _prick_ ," and pops the other man across the head. Lightly, though. He murmurs his next sentence. "I don't know what I'd do without you, either." 

The both of them smile and fall asleep like that- in each other's arms, alive and well. 

**Author's Note:**

> i actually wrote rly short smut i feel so d i r t y


End file.
